


Bitter Roses

by HermioneSparta



Category: Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 11:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10512450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneSparta/pseuds/HermioneSparta
Summary: "Claws dug into the stone floor as he paced, struggling to clear his nose and mind of the loveliest poison."





	

**Title:** Bitter Roses  
 **Author:** HermioneSparta  
 **Disclaimer:** Beauty and the Beast belongs to its owners. The plot is mine though.  
 **Summary:** Claws dug into the stone floor as he paced, struggling to clear his nose and mind of the loveliest poison.

[-]

[-]

The winter wind, normally soothing to his grotesque form, was a traitor with its vicious bite. Breathing out a heavy plume of steam as he paced the balcony, the bedamned rose mocking him from its place behind him, he snarled. His blood was alight with a scent he could not forget and he trembled with restraint.

Claws dug into the stone floor as he paced, struggling to clear his nose and mind of a poison that he wanted so badly to ingest.

"Master—"

He bit the air with a roar, whirling to face Cogsworth and Lumière. "What?!"

Both flinched, instinctively backing away for a moment as blue eyes focused on them, choking rage shining from their soulful depths. It was a stark contrast to the happiness (and dare they say it, love) that had been upon his face of late.

"You must get her back. She is the one!"

"She is GONE! Enough!" Pain laced his words as he turned away, staring across the snow-covered lands. Where the white image had so recently become a canvas for the dreams and hope that he didn't even know rested inside of him, it now stood as a barren painting of the loneliness that he had foolishly believed had been behind him.

Without her, even the memories of their days were wounds upon his heart.

"She has returned before…"

"Not this time, Lumière," he said with a tired sigh, his rage draining away. "It is…for the best."

"Surely not, sire!" was Lumière's gasped reply.

He did not respond, his eyes closing as he took a shuddering breath. It did nothing to cleanse her warm scent from his nose, her light from his soul. She had awakened a fire within him, instinctive and rooted within this cursed form that he refused to bear upon her. Blood boiling at the memory of her gentle touch, his body stirred even as another icy gust tore through his fur to touch sweat-dampened skin.

He had come to love her, his beautiful Belle. And he had given her the freedom she needed to find happiness, to find _love_ , even if it was not with him.

Heat, a monster of its own, near consumed him as he opened his eyes. Distantly, he saw the fire flickering against the pitch dark of the night.

They were coming.

Let them.

Far too many tears had fallen from her kind eyes because of him and he refused to allow another to be shed with the truth and weight of his longing. He would not destroy her with his desire and force her to endure his abominable condition.

The enchantress...is this was that woman had intended upon him? For the spoilt, selfish prince to be overcome by a man so enraptured by love, hope, and joy that its loss to an animal's base desires became the greater cruelty than that which she had laid upon him all those years ago?

He left the balcony and stared at the lone table with resignation. Another petal fell as Cogsworth and Lumière finally left him, silent in their retreat.

So sweet did a rose smell.

So painful were its thorns.

So bitter did its petals taste.

Wasn't that the worst of it? To taste the sweetest fruit of the heart, to learn the lessons she had intended, only to have all of it quickly sour in his mouth.

A shudder wracked his burning form as something between a wail and a roar tore from his throat.

His love, his mate, was gone.

His humanity could accept this loss, for her sake and perhaps even his own.

But the beast...the beast would perish.

For it could not live without her.


End file.
